Not With My Ol' Man
by solista
Summary: Johnny Madrid Lancer, gunfighter, friend, rancher, son can he juggle all and come out alive.


**Not With My Ol' Man**

"You wanna live ta see tomorrow, you'll take that gun from my Ol' Man's neck."

The voice was cool, slow and gave the impression that the person speaking would carry through on the threat.

Clive Littlejohn felt a bead of sweat run down in a long line over his brow and then along his cheek to drip from his chin.

Paul Merritt and Judson Mathers stood on either side of him just behind the tall man who, more or less, was a shield as well as a bargaining point.

Paul, gripping his rifle, knuckles turning white thought, 'what the hell am I doing here, for heaven's sake I'm a banker,' this was not a good idea became a mantra to the trembling middle aged man.

Judson was a rancher, a pillar of the small community; he tried to do right by everyone.

A law-abiding citizen, Judson attended church with his wife and three daughters and was on the board of directors of many organizations, so why did he find himself with his friends, accosting a man he had known by reputation for years.

Murdoch Lancer swallowed once, the cold steel of the gun barrel lodged under his jaw, his arm held in a death grip by the same man holding the gun.

Somewhere behind him another man stood with a rifle aimed at his younger son, John, while the man he knew as a business acquaintance directed a firm but shaky request for Johnny to, 'just calm down'.

Murdoch had seen his boy turn from being Johnny Lancer, rancher to morphing into Johnny Madrid, gunfighter.

His heart broke for the young man, still trying to find his way in the role of son, brother, and rancher. The formative years spent from childhood to young adult were lost to parental influence and guidance.

His second wife abandoned their marriage taking Johnny, just before he was two, and hid in Mexico and the border towns for reasons only she could answer.

Those answers would not be forth coming as she had died when John was around ten years old.

The boy made his way alone, growing up too fast and choosing to live by the gun to make his way to survive in a cruel world offered to a mixed heritage child.

His heart cried at the injustice as his boy had finally come home and was making a change to fit into a family but the past kept rearing its ugly head.

The cold unemotional voice ripped at his father's heart, but this was not a job for an amateur this called for someone who was 'good at his trade', "I won't say it again get that gun outta my father's face or you're gonna have a lotta sad people crowdin' 'round your grave."

Murdoch had to admit, Johnny Madrid was a force to be reckoned with.

Judson wavered before he stepped forward, yet not in front or beside their human shield, "Look ah Mister Madrid we may have gone about this all wrong."

Johnny smirked, "ya think?"

"Look," Judson began again, "I know Murdoch here an' I, we would have tried another way if we knew you would accept our proposition."

Johnny tilted his head, not taking his eyes from the man with a gun to Murdoch's neck, "You sayin' this buyin' trip Murdoch came on was no buyin' trip but an ends to a means?"

Paul Merritt, the banker, gained a bit more grit as he nodded with the gunfighter's deduction, "we had no real choice. We didn't think you would come with Mister Lancer, we had it figured we could do this in a more business-like manner."

"Send for me later in response to what, a ransom," Johnny questioned the men.

Blue eyes with ice-cold detachment never left the face of the man who held the gun to his father's neck. As Johnny Madrid, men hired him for his gun, but kidnapping and ransom that was new.

"Look, Mister Madrid," Clive eased up on the pressure applied to Murdoch Lancer's neck. Licking his dry lips, his throat dryer than the desert, his voice cracked, "we got a problem here in our town, one we can't handle. We need…"

Johnny Madrid stared ice daggers at Clive, "You wanna talk ta me you're gonna do as I say, or three men are gonna be dead, an' one of 'em ain't my Ol' Man."

Judson began to fidget, "I heard you're good, but you can't possible take all three of us."

With a tilt of his head, and a slight shrug of one shoulder Johnny smiled, just a little upturn of his lips, "it's a good day ta die."

"No one is going to die today," the voice was feminine and brooked no questions.

Johnny glanced briefly at the woman exiting the storefront behind the three men holding Murdoch. She carried no weapon so was dismissed by the ex-gunfighter as no threat.

Placing a hand on the gun held to the large rancher's neck, she pushed Clive's hand down, "put it away. Mister Lancer, please go stand beside your son. Everyone, shall we go inside away from prying eyes and discuss this…"

Johnny shook his head as his father walked the short distance to stand beside him, "nope, no discussion. You people are loco."

Murdoch moved his hand to place it on his son's shoulder, but withdrew it when Madrid's cold blue eyes glanced at him for just a second, "John, please…."

"No Murdoch, these people need ta be locked up behind bars. And where is tha tin badge when ya need 'im," Johnny kept his eyes on the three men and one woman his eyes questioning and dismissing them in one blink, "come on Murdoch we need ta be makin' tracks outta here."

"My father would be here if he could," her voice was strong but held a touch of pain and fear. Mallory Banyon stood, hands on hips and glared back at Madrid's cool eyed glare.

"An' him bein'," Johnny questioned in a sarcastic tone.

"Jeffery Banyon, sheriff of this county. He...," Mallory hesitated and Clive put a gentle hand on the young woman's arm.

Taking a deep breath Mallory nodded at the general store owner, "I'm alright Clive, thank you," looking back at the Lancer's she noticed the younger one let a chink in his cold mask drop a little, "please, can't we go somewhere else to discuss this?"

"John," Murdoch's voice broke through the mist of Johnny's drifting memories as the concerned father placed a hand on his son's arm.

Looking directly at the young woman, "Yeah I think we'd better," the gunfighter nodded.

Her hands clutching the folds of her skirt, Mallory moved off down the boardwalk, "we can go to Dad's office. Please follow me."

She did not glance back to see if the men did as she requested, but smiled as she heard the clumps of heavy boots on the wooden walk way.

Johnny brought up the rear of the cavalcade, his mind returning to the distant past.

Some small border town, a gunfight under the hot sun and the smell of blood, the man who died and his own life force pooling under him to be soaked up by the dry dirt of the street.

A large man, stern, but gentle lifted him up and cared if he lived or died.

 **The Ransom**

Mallory lead the way to the sheriff's office, as she entered she held a hand out to the deputy sitting behind the desk.

Mark Windom was not what you would consider a 'deputy'. He was around the age of sixty, no one really knew for sure his true age. The older man stood close to five foot seven, give or take and inch as he walked with a slight stoop and had a gimp leg that made him lurch from side to side.

However, Mark Windom was loyal to Jeff Banyon, and would do anything for the sheriff's daughter.

A rheumy old blue eye locked on to the dark blue eyes of the gunfighter coming in the door behind a very big man, "this him," he asked around a chaw of tobacco.

Mallory placed a small hand on the rumpled, stained arm of the 'deputy's' shirt with a smile said, "Be nice Winnie, Mr. Madrid and his father may be our only salvation. We don't want to chase them off with rude manners."

Murdoch came to stand within the walls of the small but efficient sheriff's office. Standing with his arms folded over his chest and feeling his younger son behind and just to his right, "I would suggest someone tell me what is going on?"

Mallory bit her bottom lip and glanced at the three 'kidnappers', "well I guess I will be the one to speak."

Johnny, leaning against the doorframe, chuckled, "ya think cause Madrid ain't ever shot a woman you would be tha safe bet."

"Johnny," the long drawn out name of his younger son reverberated in the confines of the small office, "let the lady talk."

The 'lady' looked at the large rancher, the chiseled jaw, and tight lips looked like a granite wall, "in for a penny… Mister Lancer we," indicating the three men behind her, "When daddy was shot down in the street like a dog it was he suggested we contact Johnny Madrid."

"How'd ya know where ta find me," Johnny's slow, sarcastic drawl had Mallory study the man beside his father.

Putting her hands on her slim hips, she approached the gunfighter, "my daddy kept track of you since that day in San Phillipi."

Johnny straightened up to stand taller, "he didn't have the right."

Murdoch, knew his boy had a sordid past with much kept hidden from the gunfighters family, "no son let's hear her out. After all I was the 'hostage'."

Johnny slouched down and chuckled, "yeah, lot a good that did 'em. "Bout got their fool heads shot off."

"You'da been dead 'fore tha last man fell," the old timer piped in, spittle from his lips flecking his chin, defiance in the old rheumy eyes.

Johnny nodded to the old man, "yeah you may be right 'old man', but then you'd all been out these fine upstandin' citizens an' you'd still have your 'problem'."

"If I might…," all eyes turned to Judson, "ah maybe Mallory we could go see your father and put Mister Madrid…" his speech was stopped as both father and son exclaimed together, "it's Lancer!"

"Ok...," Judson nodded, "sorry, Lancer, ta see if he could talk ta tha Lancers an' keep us from all endin' up in the bone yard."

Mallory nodded, "you may be right Jud. But the doctor doesn't want dad to have a lot of visitors," biting her bottom lip, "I'll take Johnny to see dad, you get Mister Lancer settled in the hotel."

Murdoch wanted to protest but Johnny's hand on his shoulder stopped him, "It's ok Murdoch, once we get this squared away we are out of here," with a smile only for his father, "'cides you could do with a bath, some hot food and a change of clothes."

The concerned father looked at his son and nodded, "I suppose if this is the only way. However if you are not back within one hour this town will not only have one problem but two."

Placing a calloused large hand over that on his son's, "you keep your eyes open and take care."

Johnny grinned and pulled his hand from under that of his father's and patting the butt of his low-slung gun, "when ain't I careful?"

Murdoch cleared his throat and before he could speak Johnny quipped, "Ok, Ok, I'll be careful."

Murdoch nodded, "gentlemen if you would please show me the way, I agree with my son, a bath and food would go a long way in soothing my ruffled feathers."

Judson nodded, relief on his sun reddened face, "we never intended ta cause ya any discomfort once we got our point across."

Murdoch shot the man a fierce glare, "that is yet to be seen."

 **Sheriff Jeffery Banyon**

Johnny walked beside Mallory Banyon, his face did not show the tense jaw, or the unease this 'meeting' with Jeffery Banyon was causing him.

It had been four or five years since their paths had crossed. Banyon had always been a lawman, with a silent chuckle to himself; Johnny knew Murdoch would like the man.

Hell, he liked the man truth be told, however at the time Madrid was an up and coming gunfighter, full of himself and cocky as all get out.

His smart mouth earned him a bullet in the gut and a determined law dog nurse maidin' the recalcitrant young man.

As the gunfighter and sheriff's daughter walked the boardwalk, it seemed like any other day, people would stop the young woman, inquire about her father, and raise eyebrows at the man beside her with the low hung gun on his hip.

Johnny had the little half grin on his lips and the cold blue stare of the gunfighter in his eyes. The people smiled back, said their goodbyes then scurried off glad to be away from the cold and heartless gunman.

"Do you have to do that," Mallory looked up at the man as they continued to walk.

Johnny grinned down, making the coldness of his eyes soften to a mischievous glint, "what?"

"That thing you do to make people nervous," she huffed clearly put out about the aggressive aura the man had cloaked himself in.

Johnny was enjoying himself, "and what is 'that thing' I do Miss Banyon."

He grabbed at her arm to keep her from stepping off the edge of the boardwalk being her attention was on the man and not her feet, "careful ma'am wouldn't want these fine upstandin' citizens think tha gunfighter was evil enough ta push ya off the walk. Wouldn't look to good for me, I mean what with they would all take up arms ta put down a mangy dog that threatened one of their own."

Mallory pulled her arm from Johnny's hand, "they are not like that. They care they're just scared, many don't even know how to shoot straight. Daddy wouldn't have wanted any harm come to them…"

"Yeah, meanin' well an' not doin' anything about it is tha same as bein' a coward," Johnny stepped off the boardwalk, "we 'bout there, ma'am?"

Mallory huffed again and stood above Johnny on the walk way, "anyone ever tell you, you have no manners and what gives you the right to judge these people you don't know."

Johnny turned his back and continued walking; a smile broke his closed lips as he heard the soft footfalls of the woman as she ran to catch up.

Walking a few more steps Johnny glanced down at the woman, "I know all I need ta know 'bout 'these people' it's ok ta start somethin', get in over their heads then call in someone like me ta finish for 'em. After tha 'job' I get paid off an' told ta leave."

Making a turn down an alley, "you are very cynical for someone as young as you appear to be Mister Madrid."

"It's Lancer," Johnny corrected her in a sharp retort.

"Alright, Mister Lancer," she started and was stopped once more when Johnny quipped, "Johnny, my Ol' Man is Mister Lancer."

"Alright, Johnny, I…ohh now you made me forget what I was going to say," Mallory burst out in a flustered huff.

Looking up at the white clapboard house, "we're home, please don't upset my father, the doctor said he's still in bad shape and it could go either way."

Pinning Johnny with a glare from her amber colored eyes, "I won't tolerate you making him feel bad about what we had to do; I tend to be extremely protective of what's mine."

Johnny nodded, "I got ya loud an' clear." As they crossed the threshold, Johnny's past came galloping into his consciousness like a string of wild mustangs, just as unfettered and sudden.

Mallory nodded at the woman sitting in a rocking chair, "Thank you Mrs. Biggs, if you want to go relax for a bit I will stay with Daddy."

The matronly woman stood holding onto her knitting as if was enough protection from the 'gunfighter' standing just behind the young woman.

Smiling, Mallory placed a hand on those of Mrs. Biggs, "this is Johnny Ma… ah Lancer, he has come to help us."

Johnny's blue eyes, darker and brighter than Mallory had seen in the stranger's vision before, gave the older woman a smile that would charm the birds from the sky. His slow drawl would melt butter, "Ma'am, my 'sister' T'resa does some knittin' but her pearl one knit two is a lot looser than yours, seems it's gonna be a fine sweater for someone."

Mrs. Biggs nearly melted under those blue eyes and charming smile, then when the young man spoke it was as if her legs were like rubber, "oh my dear, well thank you Mister Lan…."

Johnny interrupted the woman with an exaggerated flourish of removing his hat, "please ma'am it's Johnny, my father's Mister Lancer."

The flustered woman let slip her knitting project from her lax fingers and placed a hand over her heaving breast, "oh…. of course, Johnny."

Mallory's gaze locked with Mrs. Biggs and had to smile back at the woman, as Johnny bent to pick up the fallen project the older woman smoothed her greying hair and pulled down her dress shirt and gave Johnny a beatific smile, "thank you Johnny. Well I can go and see to Rufus."

With a wink, Johnny's bottom lip pouted out, "Rufus your husband Ma'am?"

With a flutter of her hand, she waved Johnny's remark off, "my no, Rufus is my dog, a big galoot of a beast but I love him and he's my companion."

Johnny nodded as he handed the knitting safely into the older woman's hands, "animals are a good judge of character. You take care of them, they take care of you."

Mrs. Biggs turned and lay her knitting on the rocker seat, turning back around she critiqued the young man, "you could do with some fattening up, I got some fresh berries just picked, and I'm going right now to make you a pie."

Mrs. Eugenie Biggs looked at Mallory, "I know you all thought you were doing right, but this boy looks about as trail drug as a man can be. You go on an' get your business done and along with that pie I'll have a nice stew cooked up."

Johnny smiled, knowing he had one ally in this cowardly town, "don't put yourself out ma'am. I still got a bit of jerky in my saddle bags."

Ducking his head Johnny grinned at the harsh look Mallory shot his way and the reprimand from Mrs. Biggs to Miss Mallory Banyon.

He looked up as he heard the screen door gently slam back in place. Yeah Miss Mallory showed that she was not happy with him.

"You find that amusing do you," Mallory huffed at the gunfighter.

Johnny grinned, showing even white teeth and dimples embedded in his cheeks, "yeah I did."

His lips quickly lost their smile and turned down into a frown, "let's get this over with."

Mallory wanted to scream, rant and rave, stomp her feet, but knew it would only amuse Johnny Madrid Lancer and she was not about to give him the satisfaction that she felt…. oh what was she thinking, "remember don't upset daddy."

Turning to the open door beside the rocker she quietly walked into the room, Johnny behind her.

A man lay on the bed, pale, beaten, and shot; Johnny tried to find the face he remembered under the bruises and cuts. However, the voice brought his past into the present, "Johnny. Glad ya came boy."

"Mister Banyon," Johnny's slow drawl had the injured man smile.

"You the only person I know who can make a sarcastic remark with only my name. How ya been kid," the last remark was from a man beaten near to death.

The man Johnny remembered from his youth had been stern, gruff unbending… kind of like his old man, Murdoch. This bedridden shell of a man did not come close to those memories.

Moving towards the bed Mallory noticed how the gunfighter played with his hat, rolling the hat around his fingers as if he was nervous, his spurs rang out a soft jingle as if even those inanimate objects were showing respect.

"Well, "Johnny started, "when my Ol' Man an' me ride inta town and get set upon by righteous citizens what would you expect."

Sheriff Jeffery Banyon peered at the young man one eye more closed than open, "you didn't shoot anyone did you," the last was said with a small grin.

"Not yet," Johnny quipped back then looking up at Mallory, "but then the day is still young."

Glancing back to the sheriff, "you don't look so good Ban," Johnny could feel the pain coming off the sheriff in waves, "you need somethin' for tha pain?"

Mallory went about pouring a cup of tea, "We ran out of pain medication a few days ago. We can't leave town for supplies so we make do with home remedies."

Approaching her father's bed, she smiled as he frowned, "come on Dad show Mister Madrid how you just love my willow bark tea."

Johnny made a noise in his throat, "can't say as I like that God awful stuff, my 'sister' tries ta force it down me when I end up sick or shot. Says it's good for what ails ya, 'course it's better than ol' Jelly's concoctions."

Ban sipped the tea and made a face of instant disgust, "sounds like you got people who care for you, that's a good thing."

Mallory put a steadying hand on the cup and helped her father tip it back until the bitter brew was finished.

With a smile, "there now that wasn't so bad was it Dad? Mister Madrid..."

Johnny stopped the young woman, "Lancer, its Lancer now, an' ya may as well call me Johnny."

Mallory nodded, "suit yourself, Johnny," standing and keeping hold of the empty cup, "I am going to get a little broth for my father."

As she passed the gunfighter, "remember what I said earlier, don't tax my father."

Johnny grinned and fixed the sheriff with laughing eyes, "She sure didn't fall far from the tree."

Ban nodded and settled back against the bed headboard, a grunt followed the shift and Johnny moved forward, "you ok ol' man?"

The sheriff waved the younger man off with a wave of his hand, "yeah I'm just fine."

Johnny chuckled as he came to a stop at the foot of the bed, "they sure did a job on you old man," dipping his head, "you could a just sent for me."

Jeffery Banyon nodded, "yes I could have, but then you would have been shot the minute you rode into town. He has eyes everywhere."

"So who is this…," Johnny, interrupted by one name, "Ross Pernell," had the ex-gunfighter stare at the bed ridden sheriff.

Letting out a "I'd say you got a problem," Johnny eyed the older man and shook his head, "so how'd Pernell get a toe hold on you, of all people?"

Ban pulled the coverlet straight across his hips, "It's gonna be a long story Johnny. Come on and pull up a chair."

Pulling his lower lip between his teeth, "I think Murdoch needs ta be included in this little parlay, he is the innocent in all this."

Ban nodded, "you are right Johnny. First thing is have you lost any of your edge. I mean Parnell is…"

Johnny grinned as his right hand moved down to his right hip and the gun resting there; the sheriff never saw the movement it was still as he remembered slick as lightning.

A muffled 'oh' came from behind Johnny as Mallory entered the room one hand clutched to her mouth as the other fought to hold the cup of broth from spilling over.

"What are you doing," she screamed at the gunfighter as she moved into the room and crossed over to her father.

Her amber eyes glaring at Johnny and placing a gentle hand on her father's shoulder, "I warned you…"

Reaching up and patting his daughters hand, "It's alright Mal, Johnny was just reassuring me had not lost his edge."

With a smile and a flick of his wrist the gun was once more nestled in the worn leather holster, tipping his head, "I never shot an unarmed man or woman."

Mallory pushed the cup of broth into her father's hands, "well there's always a first for everything."

Johnny crossed his arms, "anythin' in particular you was talkin' 'bout, 'Miss' Banyon?"

The young woman blushed from her cheeks to her neck, Johnny grinned as she turned away from him with the pretense of helping her father, "well I'd watch yourself Mr. Madrid, and there could very well be a bullet with your name on it when Parnell gets back into town."

"Mallory," Ban pushed the cup back at his daughter, "if we are all going to get out of this mess, we need Johnny. And you young man," the sheriff cast the one eye opened in the gunfighter's direction, "keep your mind on the situation and not my daughter, please."

Johnny smiled and nodded, "you know Ban when I'm on a job that's all I think about. "'Cept now you dragged my Ol' Man into this fracas and him I think about what could happen; he ain't tha kind of man ta just sit back, he's hard headed an' I don't want him hurt."

The sheriff settled back on his bed, suppressing a groan with a nod and thank you to Mallory, "I'm sorry for what we had to do to get you here, and I wouldn't want your father to get hurt either. You can send him back home before…."

A growl from the open doorway had Johnny turn and crouch down, the gun in his hand, "that's a sure way ta get yourself shot Ol' Man."

Murdoch moved past his son, ignoring the gun pointing at him and the ice blue glare from his younger son's eyes, " I think I can best judge who goes and who stays." Stopping in front of the bedridden sheriff, he heard his son's gun slipping back into its holster and a muffled snort, "and no one sends me anywhere I don't wish to be."

Johnny came up beside Murdoch and grinned at the father and daughter, "tol' ya he was hard-headed an' he calls tha tune."

The sheriff settled back and tried to grin, "I never thought I would see the day Johnny Madrid dancing to someone else's tune."

Turning to address the tall rancher, "Mister Lancer I gotta say congratulations, ya got a good man there, cherish him."

Murdoch was silent for just a heartbeat, "I know, it's taken a bit of time for me to see that," Johnny felt like he grew ten feet at his father's admission.

"I don't know what kind of trouble you have here, sheriff, but I will not allow my son to be caught up in this, this…."

Johnny could not hold back the chuckle that lodged in his throat as the bedridden, beat to a pulp, shot and fading fast sheriff seemed himself to grow ten feet, "Mister Lancer I can only hope you have it in you to forgive us here in Raintree. But we're desperate, I tried and I wasn't good enough...,"

Mallory drew up beside her father and glared at the two men standing over him, "don't Dad, you don't have to explain it's obvious they won't help. The doctor said to…"

Banyon waved off his fussing daughter, "Look we got good people here in town and the ranches and farms around us. Ross Parnell is as bad as they come."

With a nod to Johnny and hope in his one good eye, "Johnny we, I, need you. I am sorry to ask it of you, you seem to have finally settled down you got a family, people who care…"

Johnny took one glance up at Murdoch then his blue eyes fastened on the young woman then the sheriff, "Yeah I do got people that care, an' to be fair I gotta talk to them," with a tilt of his head to his father and a small grin, "that's what family do."

Murdoch smiled at his younger son, he could have popped the buttons from his shirtfront at the joy his son's words had on his ego, "yes son, that's what family do."

Johnny nodded to the sheriff, "I'm gonna take Murdoch down to tha saloon an' get 'im a drink, an' somthin' to eat," with a wide mouthed grin, 'he looks to be a bit peckish."

With a loud harrumph, Murdoch glared down at his son but his eyes held suppressed laughter, "I was about to say the same thing, young man."

Turning back to the sheriff, "Ban, I can't promise anything right now."

With a wave of his hand, the sheriff dismissed the gunfighter, "it's ok Johnny, I understand. You go on and talk with your father, I'll be right here."

With a glare to Johnny, Mallory began shifting the pillows behind her father, "give him time to rest before you upset him again, Mister Lancer," her glare included both Johnny and Murdoch.

Johnny placed his hands on his hips, "Whooee, with two more like her ya won't need a gunfighter."

Ban chuckled, "that you have right Johnny. You two go on, I'll just rest a bit."

The sheriff lay his head back on the pillows and went soundly to sleep. Mallory pulled the sheet up onto her father's chest, turning she moved to the foot of the bed, "give him a few hours," she stopped and looked up into the gunfighters eyes, "Dad holds a lot of store in you, don't disappoint him."

Murdoch, with a glare at the slip of a girl his eyes softening thinking of Teresa his ward and for all intent and purpose his daughter, "Miss Banyon I, we will be back in three hours with our answer."

With a huffy sniff and a glare, "you do that mister Lancer."

The men turned to leave but the young woman clearing her throat had them stop," listen I don't intend to be rude, but dad is all I have left of my family," with a soft smile she glanced back at the sleeping man.

"I tend to be a bit overprotective," looking back to the two men, "I'm sorry we had to resort to such tactics, but dad insisted we get the best," locking her amber eyes to the blues of the young man, "and apparently you are the best."

Johnny ducked his head as Murdoch glared.

 **Tequila, Beer and Talk**

Johnny turned the empty glass in his left hand as his father sipped his mug of beer, "listen I know all this is loco, but I do owe Jeff Banyon."

Murdoch replaced his mug to rest on the tabletop, using his hand to wipe his lips he stared at his son, "then tell me John, what this man did for you that you would risk your life and the pain that this insanity would cause your family."

Johnny got a faraway look in his eyes, pouring another shot of tequila his thoughts going back to 'that' day. Glancing up at his father, "I know you have a hard time acceptin' what I did back then, but it wasn't always bad."

With a small smile on his lips Johnny lifted the glass of tequila, sipped, then replaced the glass on the table, "I was maybe seventeen, just got off a 'job', and was mindin' my own business. I rode into this little backwater border town, less than a fly speck on a map."

Lifting his hand Johnny took another sip of his drink, replaced the glass on the table and wiped damp lips with his fingertips, "I'd got a bath, some food and was just sittin' there when El Bandito comes shootin' his way inta town."

"I knew he wouldn't bother me, but El Bandito was muy malo, did things a sane man wouldn't even think about. Just as I was about ta saddle up here comes this gringo sheriff, bold as brass walkin' down tha street. Rifle across his chest an' full o' vinegar," Johnny looked around gathering his thoughts, settling his expressive blue eyes once more on his father.

"By this time most of tha towns people hid behind locked doors too coward to fight for what was theirs. El Bandito had taken a few young girls, for obvious reasons," looking down at the table top he blew out a sigh and continues, " young girls thirteen, fifteen there about, even at my age that was too young for what was gonna happen to 'em."

Murdoch shifted in his seat, he knew some of the life his younger son had endured, and he regretted that he had not been there.

Johnny had grown silent, not wanting to push to the surface a painful past, "John?"

Waving a hand as if he could wave the past aside, "It's ok Murdoch, any way Ol' Jeff needed a hand, his deputy had been beat up pretty bad, an' tha town folk couldn't or wouldn't help," Johnny paused and a smile played at the corners of his lips.

So this 'sheriff' walks up to me claps a big ol' hand on my shoulder an' turns me around, "you any good with that gun boy?"

"Well I gotta tell ya Johnny Madrid wasn't about to let any man get away with man handlin' 'im an' I was about ta tell this law dog where ta go, then I heard the screams," Johnny dropped his head and toyed with the empty glass in his hand.

Blue eyes looked up into his father's face, "between tha two of us, El Bandito was no more."

With a a shrug, "I took a bullet to my gut an' Jeff Banyon nursed me back to health to ride outta that town, but Murdoch he taught me something an' I'll never forget."

The father in him wanted to take his son up in his arms and hold him to banish the pain the ugliness but Murdoch waited until his boy sighed a deep heart felt sigh, "he taught me to trust even if was against the grain, to give to others with no regard to yourself. To put away the past and look to something better than all you'd ever known."

Johnny gave his father a smile that lightened the older man's distress, "I came out of that little fly speck town better than I went in. Mallory, the sheriff's daughter was one of tha 'little' girls that animal took. She was battered some," and with a grin, Johnny poured another shot of tequila.

"Let me tell ya that 'little' girl fought like a wild cat an' even after we got to 'em she looked to the welfare of the other girls before takin' care of herself. Yeah, I learned a lot back then."

Murdoch nodded, "I know you have made up your mind son, but you will not do this by yourself."

Johnny's blue eyes glared at the man, conflicted as to where his heart was leading him.

Murdoch Lancer, fighter, survivor, rancher, friend, and father; it was only a few short months ago the gunfighter would never had even dreamed he could sit in the same room as this man, but now…. "I know you wanna help," as his Ol' Man drew himself up to bellow a protest Johnny held up one hand, "an' you will Ol' Man."

"You gotta trust me in this," bowing his head, unable to look at his father's face, "I done this as a livin' so I am tha only man here that's qualified to know just how ta get it done."

Murdoch stared at his son's bowed head and had to stifle a chuckle, at Johnny's abrupt raising of his head and the blue eyes looking confused, "I'm alright mi hijo, I just remember you would not look at us when your mother or I caught you doing something you shouldn't be doing."

The father in him filled with pride and petrified him at the same time, "I know you feel you have an obligation to this man and I also know you can plan a strategic attack, but son I'm…"

Johnny grinned at his father, Murdoch Lancer searching for the word to admit fear without showing it, "scared? Well I been scared once or twice myself… but I tuck it all behind me an' carry on. We'll get through this Murdoch."

Murdoch smiled at his son, lifted his glass and said, "Then my son let's get to it."

Johnny returned the salute with his own glass, "gracias Papi, ok let's do this."

The sun shone bright in a cloudless sky but the brightness became dull and the joy one took from such a beautiful day lacked in the frightened citizens.

Wary and hopeful eyes followed the large older man and the young gunfighter as they walked side by side committed to a fight not their own.

 **End Part One**

November 14, 2015

solista


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